Good Going, Hermione!
by the last dreamer
Summary: Fluffy one-shot. Harry hears something and goes to investigate. It leads to a revelation he never thought would happen. Slightly OOC.


A/N: I'm trying my hand at Harry Potter fanfic now, but this one's only gonna be a one-shot, slightly-fluffy romance. And yes, they are slightly OOC, (especially Hermione), but if you have a problem with it: too bad!

Anyone at all interested in being a beta reader?

Disclaimer: These characters also do not belong to me, nor will they ever. I just want to play with them for a while, and then I promise I'll put them back. Honest!

**Good Going, Hermione!**

     Harry sat hunched over his Transfiguration homework, slowing melting as the fire crackled merrily behind him. Tugging at his damp t-shirt, he went to open the boy's dormitory window. Pausing, he heard a soft melody floating on the wind. It almost sounded like the muggle flute his music teacher had shown him when he still lived with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. It sounded like it was coming from above him, and sure enough, when he looked there was a figure standing on the Astronomy Tower deck. 

     Being the curious person he was (and wanting any excuse to get out of doing his homework), Harry swiped his invisibility cloak off the bed and went to investigate. Climbing the stairs to the tower, he could only wonder who was up there at this time of night. Not to mention playing that beautiful music. When he opened the door, he was surprised to see a rather familiar head of bushy brown curls. 

     "Hermione?" he asked, and the music came to an abrupt halt. The girl sitting on the edge turned so quickly she almost slipped off. He leapt forward to catch her, but she had already regained her balance. She was too slow, and the flute-like instrument rolled off the ledge and started to plunge towards the ground. Her wand appeared from deep within her sleeve, and with a muttered spell, the flute was in her hands again. 

     "Harry, what are you doing here?" she said, her face still very close to his own. With a gulp he pulled back enough to take a seat next to her. Turning his face to the stars he answered her.

     "I heard someone up here and came to see who it was," he didn't see the slight blush staining her cheeks.

     "You heard?"

     "Yeah. Was I not supposed to or something?" he asked. 

     "No, it's not that. It's just that I'm really no good, and I didn't want anyone to criticize me, so I came up here." He turned to look at her, surprised.

     "How can you say you're not good? I heard you, and it sounded just fine to me," she looked at him, smiling. 

     "Thanks. I only took it up as a kind of escape from, you know, everything. It soothes me somehow." Hermione looked so pretty in the moonlight, little stars dancing in her eyes. Harry could only stare, taking in the sight of the woman before him. Only now he noticed the changes in her, both physically and mentally. The war had taken its toll on all of them, but she seemed exceptionally strained because she was both a strategist and a soldier. 

     It showed in her eyes, they reflected a soul that had seen too much death and destruction in its time. Harry had the sudden urge to protect her from everything, to take her away to some isolated little island and live there in ignorant bliss. Where did that come from, he thought, shocked at himself. Never before had he seen Hermione as anything but a close friend. 

     A comfortable silence eased between them, both looking up into the night sky completely relaxed in each other's presence. 

     "Harry?" her soft voice broke through his thoughts. He tilted his head to look at her, but she was still gazing up at the silver moon. 

     "Yeah?" he whispered back, not wanting to ruin the moment of peace in the fast-paced turmoil of the wizarding world. 

     "Things have changed, and they aren't ever going to be the same again, are they?" she still refused to look at him. 

     "What do you mean, Hermione?" he asked, stealing another glance at her.

     "I don't know. It just suddenly seems as thought everything is out of my reach and the whole world is tumbling along some dark downward spiral. It almost makes me wish I could go back and be a kid again, even if only to be oblivious to everything wrong in the world." Hermione wrapped her arms around her knees, resting her head on them and peeking out at him from under her long lashes. 

     "Something is telling me you were never very oblivious to anything. I can just picture you at five years old, telling your classmates about world hunger and economic crisis," he said with a cute grin, and she was powerless to stop her answering smile. 

     "All the same…" she drifted off.

     "I understand," he answered, turning his face away from her. She studied him, his moonlit features, his casual posture, his underlying power…he could almost be a Greek god. Her very own Adonis. Hermione let a secret little smile escape before she spoke again.

     "Where do we go from here, Harry?"

     "I…don't know. When Hagrid first told me I was a wizard, I had all these grand ideas floating about my head. You know, like all those fairy tales you read and hear about as a kid. I thought I'd learn a few spells, meet a few people, and everything would be wonderful. Now though, I'm not so sure I want anything to do with this world. All this destiny and fate crap is starting to drive me insane. I just want it to be over, which is what we are fighting for, when you really think about it." Hermione hated to correct him, but that wasn't what she had meant.

     "I didn't mean the wizarding world, I meant us. You and I. Where do we go from here?"

     Harry could only stutter for a moment. Did that mean she, too, wanted…more out of this odd relationship of theirs?

     "Um, what-" she pressed a finger to his lips, successfully stopping any more words. 

     "Harry, I really like you. I have for quite a while. I don't know when it first happened; maybe it was that day you saved me from the troll in first year. Or maybe when we rescued Sirius together in third year. All I do know is that I don't want to die and not tell you how I feel. It's quite alright if you don't feel the same for me, I will understand," she said all of this rather fast, as if she was afraid that if she was interrupted, she would never pluck up the courage to do it again. Her honey-brown eyes stared straight into his, and it seemed like she was looking deep into his very soul. Harry pressed a soft kiss to the finger still against his lips and made to answer her. 

     "But I do. Feel the same, that is. I've wanted to tell you, but I never can get a moment alone with you. Now that's got me somewhat suspicious. Did you plan all this?" he asked, gesturing to everything around them, a small smile turning up the corners of his lips. 

     "Me? Never!" she said with a laugh. She twirled the flute with her fingers like a baton and whistled innocently. He couldn't help but chuckle, too. He hopped back onto the stone floor of the tower and got down on one knee. 

     "Hermione Granger, will you be my girlfriend?" he asked, producing a stunning crimson rose from nowhere and offering it to her. 

     "Why, Harry Potter, I think I will," she stepped down, too. It almost surprised her when she felt his warm lips pressed to her own in soft, chaste kiss. When he pulled away, his green eyes sparkled brighter than she had ever seen them. Harry couldn't hold in his happiness any longer and picked her up by the waist, twirling a few times. 

     Their echoing laughter reached the ears of a certain red-haired best friend through an open dormitory window, and he smiled to himself. 'Good going, Hermione.'

     **Well, that's it! I guess I could continue this is enough people want me to. But I kinda like it as it is. Read and review! 


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